Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Rwanda and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Stetsasonic to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Alison Limerick,
The Golliwogs,
Public Image Ltd.,
Flipper,
Robert Hood,
Robert Wyatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
Shoche,
Alton Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
Visage,
John Coltrane,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
cv313,
Excepter,
Sandy B,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
These Immortal Souls,
Moss Icon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
Make Up,
Anthony Braxton,
Colin Newman,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
The Raincoats,
John Foxx,
Smog,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
Eli Mardock,
Susan Cadogan,
E-Dancer,
Ice-T,
Donny Hathaway,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Monochrome Set,
Reagan Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monks,
the Swans,
Severed Heads,
Frankie Knuckles,
Delta 5,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Pus,
The Mojo Men,
Nils Olav,
Camouflage,
Throbbing Gristle,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.